


A Fiendly Visit

by Ivelia



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F, Patch 5.1: Vows of Virtue; Deeds of Cruelty Spoilers, ZenoHika Week (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivelia/pseuds/Ivelia
Summary: A bored Garlean prince decides to pay a visit to his returning friend, a done-with-everything Warrior of Light.Inane conversations(?) ensue.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	1. An impromptu(?) guest

**Author's Note:**

> A ZenoHika Week 2020 super short fic contribution \o/  
> Not a native English, not familiar with fanfic etiquette, tags, and whatnot, so my advance apologies for any eye-gouging mistakes ^^"  
> Corrections are appreciated!  
>  ~~Shoehorned~~ Prompts interpretation at the end of each chapter.  
> I hope this might at least a modicum of entertainment to someone, somewhere :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday, August 23rd 2020 - Day1 (Game / Hunger / Meditation)  
> It's late cause I'm dumb and actually forgot that a I'd actually need a _platform_ to share a fic, and that this one requires to wait for an invite to get an account xDDD

This feeling... It was torture. Way worse than before. Before, there was just _nothing_ , but now, there was the _absence of that specific thing_ , and... This different form of emptiness was tearing at his insides. Yet he did not regret; simply yearning, wanting to relive this exaltation, far outshone his previously undisturbed but dreary existence. He audibly exhaled, and closed his eyes in an attempt to quell the agony.

With his sight sealed off, his perception of the flow of the invisible, the _aether_ that his pure-blooded countrymen were unable to grasp, was amplified. Usually, it was the only way he could cut himself of the inanity of the secular realm. It was easier to tune out the rest of the world. Bland. Tasteless. All too easy to ignore. And revel in that very faint, but reassuring, delectable presence.

When he had originally reclaimed his body and its vast wealth of knowledge and power from its temporary occupant, he had first tried to sense that person. Having learned about after her trip to another reflection, he could understand why her impression had been so light for so long.

But, not today.

Today, he could feel it. That feeling that was engraved in his soul since their fateful last meeting. _That person_ was back _somewhere_ ; _somewhere accessible_. He could almost hear his core singing, resonating with the strength of her aura.

But... He couldn't go. He shouldn't go. For it was neither the destined time, nor the destined place. But...

\- (Just a lick. Just a taste. To stave off this all consuming hunger... Let's indulge ourselves.) He caved in. He just had to focus on this peculiar vibration and... (There!)

He easily ripped through the veil of reality, and as he stepped for from the void, he was irradiated by her undiluted aetheric brilliance, even denser than he remembered. After a long moment immersed in this warm sensation, his eyes opened to the unexpected, slightly gloomy living room of an ordinary, nondescript small house; the sedate atmosphere of the peaceful evening was antithetical to his inner turmoil. He deeply inhaled, containing himself.

Muffled footsteps behind him attracted his attention, and he slowly turned to finally see _his friend_ ; however, he was not quite prepared for her actual appearance, as her current style was markedly different from their previous confrontations. Her stern, "too pristine for a battlefield" attire, glamoured over arcane-reinforced clothing, was replaced by comfortable garments that were only fit for wearing in one's own home, flowing around her lithe frame, and her usually austere, tightly bound white hair was slightly loose, some stands carelessly tucked behind her pointy ears, framing and softening her face. With a hot beverage in one hand and a spoon in the other instead of her trademark weapons, and a sleepy, listless demeanour, she completely lacked her usual heroic momentum. She looked... tamed. Inoffensive. Defenceless.

\- "You." Her apathetic observation.

\- "You don't seem surprised." He had hoped that his sudden appearance would catch her off-guard, leading to some interesting reaction, but it was not meant to be.

\- "Since I heard that you had gained powers rivalling those of an Ascian, I have been wondering if you would show up here. Being able to travel across the void and all." Her matter-of-fact explanation reminded him of those pesky flies he had met the other day... Perhaps he should have disposed of them to ensure secrecy; but on the other hand, being expected should have led to a thrilling confrontation too... Something was off:

\- "Oh? If you had already known, then why were your defences so easy to penetrate?" He sounded a bit disappointed. "There wasn't even a single ward, or obstacle on which I could whet my appetite."

\- "Those wouldn't have even slowed you down, so I figured there was no point." She exuded indolence, not even bothering with the minimal effort for the sake of form.

\- "And even so, you don't seem to be ready to fight to protect your home." He was rather glad she didn't flee either, but he found that absolute lack of resistance dampened his enjoyment.

\- "There's a time for heroics, and there's a time for rest. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in my god-slaying uniform right now, so perhaps you can get right back where you came from, and we'll pretend this never happened." A complete, perfunctory, intolerable dismissal.

\- "And what makes you think" His hand unconsciously moved to his weapon's hilt, as he repressed his vexation "that I'm not here to claim your head while you're expecting it the least?"

\- "Oh, that. I think that you know better than to eat off the pot while it's still cooking. It might spoil the dish." A bland statement with a neutral face, heartlessly stabbing at the obvious. His intentions had been thoroughly exposed, but... He refused to withdraw.

\- "Yet, I still hunger. And I will not leave until I'm sated." He domineeringly encroached on her personal space, but her sleep-addled brain pretended to fail to process the challenge.

\- "Hmm... There's a fairly OK restaurant farther down the street, but..." They might not appreciate being visited by such a _prominent figure_. Sighing, she thrust the earthenware mug she was holding to his chest and he reflexively accepted it, perplexed. "Ishgardian-style hot chocolate. It's thick enough to be considered food, so take it, then leave. Should last you enough to return whence you came from..." She abruptly realized "Wait, no. It's the only cup I have." An annoyed sigh. She quite liked that cup. "You'll have to drink it here, I guess."

She unceremoniously plopped herself into a nearby armchair, arms folded, and pointed at the facing sofa with her cutesy moogle-shaped footwear in an invitation to sit down. She then proceeded to ignore the sizeable, nonplussed Garlean commander that was sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of her tiny sitting room.

He couldn't feel the slightest hint of battle readiness in her; it almost felt as if she was absolutely certain that he wouldn't run his sword through her this instant, or rather, that she couldn't care less if he were to. Her placid, cavalier attitude irritated him. And yet, of course he wouldn't kill her now; nor could he just leave, as it would feel as if he was fleeing from the encounter.

He ultimately opted to go with her lethargic pace, discarding his weapon, then his jacket and sitting leisurely, his eyes fixed by her over the fuming container. "Playing house" with your mortal enemy was a novel concept. After a few measured sips taken in awkward silence, he ostentatiously put the beverage down, and asked in a low voice, made hoarse by the sugar and spice content in the rather solid drink:

\- "The way you savages entertain guests does leave a lot to be desired." No answer. Spying an ornate, well-loved board game jutting out of a nearby toybox, he adjusted his approach "If you are not into inane conversations then... We could play a game". He added, wanting to ignite some semblance of fighting spirit in her: "Unless you are scared of the outcome, of course". Predictably, a flame lit in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Shoehorned~~ Used prompts:
> 
>   * **Game** \- Something done for entertainment value. May involve several entities.
>   * **Meditation** \- State of inner reflection.
>   * **Hunger** \- State of lacking something that sustains oneself.
> 



	2. The pri(z/c)e of the game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday, August 24th 2020 - Day 2 (Candles / Consequences / Treasure)  
> Since I was late, you get ~~endure~~ enjoy day 1 and day 2 at the same time \o/  
> It does nothing to help the tonal schizophrenia that comes from the fact that this chapter was the first drafted, when I thought I'd just write a blurb to go with a fanart... Given my poor track record on completing anything, we're never seeing those fanarts, I'm sorry ;__; ~~... Not that you're missing anything actually~~

In the dimly lit room, a man and a woman were facing each other, hunched over a commoner's board game. From the crackling of the candles or the soft singing of the pastel-coloured lighting crystals, the subdued atmosphere was at odds with the ongoing savage battle, as his imposing momentum was routed by her flowing, ever changing tactics.

And soon, the last piece was carefully set by soft, manicured fingers, the dull thud sounding like an executor's axe.

\- "Once again... So short lived." The mockery was evident in her words, as she barely attempted to smother her smile at the back of her other hand.

After a few short breaths spent trying to recompose himself, the only words that could pass his contrite lips were:

\- "This is... utterly vexing."

\- "E~hh? You're surprisingly terrible at this." She stretched, feeling invigorated. As usual, dominating powerful enemies felt _good_. She taunted: "How unexpected of you." Haughty laughter rolling of falsely comforting words, she reclined in her armchair, a smug grin on her face.

\- "... While I am flattered that you seem to see me as some sort of invincible juggernaut...". He slowly rose, bending over to put his weight on her head rest with one hand, the other lightly tangling with the strands fluttering on her neck: "Only in the midst of the fiercest battles can one discover their true limits. “ A whispered confidence: “And as expected, _only you_ are able to lay bare my weaknesses.“ The intensity of his gaze was magnified by their newfound proximity, as if seeking to bore into her soul. Seemingly unfazed, she slapped away the digits playing with her hair, rebuking softly:

\- "Tch. Some groundbreaking discovery, being shite at board games... Really useful if we ever choose to gamble the fate of the world on Doman mahjong or something." She looked on warily as he suddenly stood at his intimidating full height, as if enlightened, his countenance serene, accepting in spite of the multiple crushing defeats he had suffered.

\- "Well, since I have lost our contest, it is only fair that I pay the price." he said theatrically, turning around to look at her cosy interior.

She feigned annoyance at what was starting to become an habit, berating:

\- "Wait, you're not attempting to slit your throat again, are you? I just had these floors done..."

\- "How cold. Don't worry, I don't want to leave you again so soon. But indeed, a mild physical punishment would be appropriate." He stopped in front of a blood red antique candelabra, the mesmerizing sway of the flames dancing in his eyes.

\- "Eh?" She quizzically arched a brow. Physical punishment for losing one- well, actually several humiliatingly one-sided games, on top of his bruised ego, sounded a bit excessive...

\- "Isn't this what you guys call a “forfeit”? Don’t you savages find pleasure in making a spectacle of your opponent’s demise?" She frowned disapprovingly, irritated by the thinly-veiled insult:

\- "Please, kindly take your propaganda, and-" Her languid voice froze as she turned to see him holding one of her prized, half-melted, burning hot candles, getting it hazardously close from his own person in a smooth, decisive move. "Wait, don't! ..." Faster than they could both register, she had rushed to his side, her initial impulse sending them both to the nearby couch in a crumpled heap.

He ended up half-seated, half-laying on the couch, the armrest digging painfully in his back due to his unnatural size, while she was almost straddling him, slippers discarded, one foot still on the floor, precariously balanced on her other knee jabbing his midriff, as she was trying to wrestle the incandescent stick from him.

Mortified by her unstable, ambiguous pose, she still added more punitive weight to the leg that had landed on his chiselled waist. The dribbling wax on their conjoined fingers was already scalding, but not as searing as the contact of the live, rippling hard flesh of the man under her as they continued their silent tug of war. Scattered, questionable marks from the impact of crimson wax drops marred the skin of his chin, neck and clavicle, exposed as her other hand that was tangled in his smooth golden locks yanked his head aside in a bid to keep his mane away from the flames.

They kept this uncomfortable stance for a little while, eyes locked and breathing strangely irregular, until he finally relented and let go of the sizzling light source; it was promptly blown and thrown far away.

\- "You were not supposed to interfere, you know." He falsely chastised, as a dishonest palm attached itself to her waist, gently stabilizing her unsteady posture, since her grip in his hair had moved to the slightly less painful spot of just under his throat, and she wasn’t willing to apply any pressure there. She lapped at her reddened appendage, hissing at the pain from serving as a taper holder. Taking in the foreign spark shining in his eyes, she realized:

\- "... You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Her fleeting worried expression, her admonishing glare, the truth behind that mask of indifference was indeed _wildly entertaining_. Given their current entwined silhouettes, she could feel rather than hear his throaty chuckle, as he sent his own scorched hand to her lips, answering with a strangely low, hoarse voice:

\- "I do enjoy getting my just deserts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts ~~shoehorned~~ used:
> 
>   * **Candle** \- Portable light and heat source, lit by fire. Wax from candles can have alternate uses, such as stamping seals, torture.
>   * **Consequences** \- Something resulting from an action.
>   * **Treasure** \- Something rare and precious that used to be hidden.
> 



	3. On the side effects of aether manipulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday, August 25th 2020 - Day 3 (Aftercare / Sword / Dance)  
> ... I'm sorry I wrote this.  
>  ~~This is the part of the fic I hope noone I know IRL ever reads~~  
>  I can't remember if they ever explained how magic sparkles work, so I went with this dumb headcanon. Please suspend your disbelief very high ^^"  
> In this chapter, we learn that this version of my character is a bit of a sadistic bitch. Although thigh(!)-holding is as far as it gets, some might consider this NSFW-ish.

She jumped off his lap, evading his contact; but after a short pause, she still ended up kneeling next to him on the couch, to get a better look at the situation.

\- "Tch, what a mess you've made, seriously. I have to clean this..." She started to delicately pick at the now hardened wax on him, attentive to his smallest reaction. He found her attitude quite amusing:

\- "We're supposed to be enemies; shouldn't you be happy to see me hurt?" Her overbearing response was resolute:

\- "Only if I'm the one dishing out the hurt, not like... " She flinched as he carelessly brushed off the remaining matter from his skin, and he chuckled when he noticed her horrified face:

\- "You're so fussy... How cute." It took all of her self control to resist adding more bruises to this smug bastard, but... Those angry welts were already terrible looking on their own. It had been easy as pie to fix this for herself; in fact, instinctively applying her knowledge of arcanes, she had healed her own hand earlier, as she was licking at her burn. But for someone else... She could ice the area for pain relief, then use regular unguents, but the efficiency of ordinary medicines and poultices were limited.

\- "Tch, it might scar..." She really wasn't on board with the idea of him running around with a marked chest, citing " _a scented candle from the Warrior of Light's abode_ " as the explanation. "Hands off, let me do it".

She finally decided to use her own healing magics: after all, she was a fairly competent healer. The arts used in the midst of battles, were mainly for "survival", ensuring that the targets could still operate in a fight, drawing and guiding nearby aether to supplement their vitality, using a weapon as a medium to bolster gross efficiency. They were however not suited for curing complex, or delicate injuries. Directed, focused healing however, was able to, in optimal circumstances, follow the natural flow of one's inner aether to restore the damaged flesh to its prime state.

Both the patient and healer needed a stable and comfortable position for this, and a relaxed state of mind; but given the fact that she was barely reaching his shoulders in spite of her taller than average Elezen stature, regular standing or sitting positions wouldn't cut it. He wouldn't fit on her small, two-seater sofa as well, and she didn't feel like moving everything around so he could lie on the floor. She carelessly pushed the coffee table, sat at the edge of her seat, feet planted firmly apart, and pointed at thick, fluffy carpet at her feet.

\- "Just sit here". He obediently humoured her, seating on the floor and leaning back, using her thigh as a backseat.

\- "Like this?"

With his position, his view was currently perfectly lined up with her chest. Although this was actually a fairly common issue to her, especially when speaking with Hyurs or Miqo'tes, she felt embarrassed.

\- "And close your damn eyes!" she groaned. (Wait, can that one even close?). He dully complied:

\- "It feels strange to let myself lie so vulnerable to my enemy, but I'll trust your benevolence". He acted as the picture of relaxation itself, but as for her... She was currently the embodiment of regret. Through her thin clothing, her free calf was brushing hesitantly against his muscular midsection, while his back was unabashedly weighing on the other; and because of his girth, she had to spread her legs quite a bit. All things considered, it wasn't comfortable _at all_. Looking at his slightly derisive, self-satisfied smirk, she really wanted to wipe it off his face.

" _Granting succor through healing_ ": One way to explain this was, basically, forcibly tempering the affected area, aligning to "euphoria". It was a technique used for crying children, or to alleviate the aches of patients that couldn't be sedated, mostly because of the stringent requirements on energy and control for maintaining both restoration and alteration of perception. It was a bit difficult to execute but...

\- (What face will you make, I wonder...) He couldn't see her devious smile as she held his injured hand to begin the treatment.

He started feeling like an indistinct tingling around the lesion, pretty similar to regular healing spells or assimilated technologies; nothing to write home about:

\- "Do not push yourself, this kind of wound is of no import- _Ah~❤_!" He failed to repress his voice on time, his tone changing into an almost lascivious sigh as the benign twinge changed into sharp pleasure, almost at the edge of pain, radiating through him. His noticeably sharper intakes of air revealed the results of her petty trick.

\- (What a beautiful sound.)

His reaction was way better than she expected; she could feel the tension in his arching back, the resistance to this shock therapy, yet she wasn't willing to let him off this easily, in spite of the effort it required from her to keep on going. She had no other choice but to use her idle leg to ensure he wouldn't move, her feet pressing at his thigh, dangerously close. She immobilized his torso with her leg, petting his arm with calming motions, while she ruthlessly maintained the pressure of her spell.

After enduring for a while, the angry markings from the scalding wax had all but vanished; yet she felt unwilling to cut the link, probing further all across his body.

\- (Truly, an magnificent specimen.)

She couldn't find the slightest imperfection, which was impressive for a shell that literally came back from death, only to be possessed by an immemorial entity; instead, she could feel through both their physical and incorporeal contact, his unrestrained, wild power she had already experienced as they were dancing atop the clouds of Gyr Abania. She felt her pulse quicken, her control slipping more and more as she attuned to the memory of their shared bliss, breathing at the same discordant rhythm.

This thrill... Sending his blood deliciously ablaze, almost melting his sense of self. Even in the fiercest battles had he never felt so enthralled, so ecstatic, except maybe for _that one time_. And of course, it was the same person; only her could make him feel this _alive_ , only she was able to match his pace. _Only her_. His free hand unconsciously clutched her knee, as if to never let go, his fevered, possessive grip inadvertently shaking her out of her trance. She froze as she took in their entangled forms, and awkwardly retrieved her leg, declaring:

\- "All done!" Apart from her suspiciously flushed cheeks, her perfect poker face made her appear as if this was perfectly normal procedure, but she was still reeling from her own life force expenditure and the backlash of permeating sensations. She internally thanked the Twelve she did not pick a more compromising position, like straddling him for example... Seriously, what the hell had she been thinking? She opted for shifting the blame, putting on an air of offended innocence:

\- "Couldn't you just keep silent and unmoving, like a normal patient? This was kind of embarrassing..." Actually, she really hadn't expected her trick to be this efficient _on both of them_.

He slowly opened his eyes, still a bit dazed, his voice slightly husky:

\- "My apologies, this... it just..." He was at loss on how to describe this otherworldly experience "... felt _nice_ than I expected." Masking awkwardness behind domineering arrogance, she snorted:

\- " _Of course_ it does. Did you think my credentials were just for show?"

\- "They're not, else I wouldn't be interested in you." Almost a whisper, yet a point blank attack. Her face aflame, she attempted to mask her embarrassment by shaking her increasingly numb leg that was still supporting him.

\- "... Move, you're heavy."

\- "Hmmm... Let me rest like this for a while..." He closed his eyes again, basking in the warm afterglow of that feeling, wishing it to last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts ~~shoehorned~~ used:
> 
>   * **Aftercare** \- Succor granted after a traumatic event. Post treatment.
>   * **Sword** \- A double edged weapon.
>   * **Dance** \- Harmonious entanglement to a given rhythm.
> 



	4. Switching jobs, shirking fails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday, August 26th 2020 - Day 4 (Dragon / Hunter & Hunted / Third Eye)  
> I finished it aaaaaa.This is the last chapter I wrote \o/ (... where we learn that writing stuff out of order is not a good idea xD)  
> I didn't go according to plan at all so not only does it run super long compared to the other chapters, (which is cool but... the other chapters are shorter in comparison xD), it doesn't want to splice in as well xD and the shoehorn goes bigger and bigger...

\- "Thank you, my friend." An unexpected, contented whisper. He couldn't remember the last time he had such a peaceful, yet enjoyable moment. Up to this point, he believed that the door to euphoria could only be wrenched open, sword in hand, but... This kind quiet happiness was not bad either.

\- "Tch. Your face and body are your only good points, it's just that I thought it would be a pity..." Her dishonest, grumpy reply died off as she peeked at his serene, as if sleeping appearance. She unconsciously bent closer and closer to appreciate his face without having to deal with his piercing, intimidating glare. Taking a closer look at his dense eyelashes, drawing fan-like shadows on his youthful face; his tall nose, breathing evenly; his lustrous, golden mane that was so nice to touch; his smooth, pearl-like third eye, adorning his forehead like a jewel; his soft lips, suddenly moving:

\- "I can still _see_ you, you know." Startling her mercilessly.

\- "... Liar. That's not even really an eye anyway... ?" She still recoiled awkwardly, caught red-handed.

\- "Still, you seem quite interested." He chuckled softly, slowly opening his eyes to observe her embarrassed reaction.

\- "Since you're imposing on me, I might as well take advantage of it." She answered self-righteously; since she had been caught, she might as well go all the way. "I'm looking for a weak point." Poking his temples obnoxiously "Tell me, what do you see through this?"

\- "Not telling." The corner of this mouth raised mischievously, enjoying the attention.

\- "Bah! Whatever." She feigned indifference. "I could ask Lucia, or Cid for a first-hand account. Might be a little insensitive though..." She remembered that she had almost punched the last guy that had asked whether her longer ears made a difference in combat, apart from making her helmets look dumber. She didn't want to be that guy. "Hmm, maybe Urianger has read something about it somewhere..." He interrupted her trail of thoughts coldly:

\- "Don't ask them. They have nothing to do with our contest." He abruptly got up from the floor, and walked further away, this back facing her, feeling irritated. "It should only be between you and I." The idea of someone else getting involved in their conflict, in any way, shape or form, was revolting.

\- "It's not like I was planning to ask my friends to help defeat you." His weight gone, she stretched her numb legs, before flopping bonelessly on the sofa, lamenting. "They've gotten better but..." Her cute bunch of Sharlayan Archons were still a bit too green to take on the likes of him. "Objectively speaking, I think the only one that could withstand a blow would be Estinien, the others..."

\- "That dragon boy?" he snorted dismissively "Didn't even stand a chance against the _real_ me, even when taking that mangy dog with him." That too-short skirmish had been a complete disappointment. "Besides, even if he had been able to bring the full might of Nidhogg to bear, my Shinryu was way more impressive, wasn't it?" He added, turning to reveal a self-satisfied smirk. She wished he wasn't way taller than her, and also half a room away, so she could bonk him on the head.

\- "Are we _really_ going to compare dragon sizes here..." She deadpanned. This conversation was going to places she wasn't willing to visit... "Anyway, size does not equal might, the most vicious beasts are not the biggest. Trust me: as an adventurer, I have travelled far and wide, and met my fair share of monsters." Dragons, krakens, man-eating beasts of all sorts... An afterthought: "The worst of them are those that we can't kill, though." Those devils in human skin, hiding in their shadows and schemes, couldn't be put to the sword for the sake of observing the rules of society; and even then, their nefarious deeds could still impact the world from beyond their grave. And even worse, there were also those fiends clad in a veil of virtue, giving their all to save their people no matter the cost, like her most recent adversaries... or even herself. She sank in a gloomy silence.

He knew better than to be concerned about her mood; the only thing of import should be what emotions should she be made to feel to become a better sport. And, _of course_ , it was only because listlessly moping around wasn't one of those emotions that he felt displeased:

\- "You're way too soft. Beasts like you should only care about the prey in front of them. You don't need to look at anything else. You don't need to care about the consequences. You should just revel in the joy of the hunt." He mocked: "It's not like the limited capacities of a savage could handle much more, anyway." Her scathing reply came with a thrown decorative pillow, that he easily dodged.

\- "Tch. Not everyone has a one-track mind like yours..." Empathy, compassion toward the others were only human; but when the other party was your enemy, hesitating because of those feelings might cost you dearly. "I envy your " _See strong enemy, cut down enemy_ " philosophy". If only it was that simple. She sighed, full of nostalgia. "Sometimes, I do wish I could go back to being just a regular mercenary... It was kinda fun." Seeing the sights, fighting deadly creatures to temper your own strength, no strings attached, no crushing expectations, and no realm-threatening responsibilities.

\- "It must have been quite a fulfilling life. Though..." He cringed "I can't see myself putting up with half the dumb fetch requests you're put through." The idea brought a smile to her face:

\- "My, that's the staple of the fledgling adventurer, so if you take on the profession, it comes with the job, young sprout." She would have paid _really good money_ to see him take on beginner jobs like food delivery, relaying messages or gathering supplies. "Unfortunately, when you get to my calibre..." She felt a bit guilty at the admission "Only in fights with world-ending stakes, can I still find some excitement". In a sense, deep down, she might be exactly as he had always defined her: a wanton, bloodthirsty beast. She rationalized "After all, culling dormices and angry gnats isn't exactly an adequate exercise."

\- "A waste of your abilities." He was seething inside that they were exploiting her as a mere errand girl, when he didn't even dare to carelessly approach her, working hard to make sure that their next _fated meeting_ would be absolutely _perfect_. She mistook the cause of his sudden sombre aura.

\- "It's not all that bad though, sometimes you do get an unexpected surprise, like running into a hidden guardian in ancient ruins, or something." The thrill of these impromptu encounters was pretty nice. "Say, have you ever thought about it? Being an adventurer." She was a bit curious. "You don't look like you really give a rat's ass about the glory of Garlemald or whatever... So if you can find it in you to spare those asking you to cart around chocobo dung, that might right up your alley." It might be necessary for him to discard his somewhat high profile identity, but it was but a minor detail. She didn't notice that her own inquisitive look was slightly hopeful; something he managed to pick up.

\- "Oh~? Could this be.. An invitation?"

\- "What the...! Not necessarily with me! In general, I mean..." He ignored her rebuttal, while she actually started to consider the idea. Fighting side by side, united against a common quarry, rather than against each other... This was quite tempting, albeit unrealistic:

\- "We've been over this, remember? This won't work, unless you're planning to return to being a free adventurer, since I highly doubt your Scion friends will be amenable to this". Not like he would want anything to do with them either; if he teamed up with her, with their superior abilities, just the two of them would be overkill for pretty much anything. She scoffed at this objection:

\- "We're already working with Gaius Baelsar, _for Hydaelyn's sake_." If someone had told her back then that they would be playing buddies with the Black Wolf himself, after _everything_ , she would have thought they were very drunk, and possibly on drugs. "Turns out, when you're desperate enough, the grudges of the dead always pale in front of the hopes of the living." A forced laughter was caught in her throat "At that point, it's not like our credibility on this topic isn't already spinning in its grave. Or..." Her tone turned taunting "Could it be... You're too sensitive to withstand the scorn of your victims? Afraid to look at them in the eye? Poor boy~". His voice was dripping disdain:

\- "Give me a _break_."

\- "Perfect!" She sat up, suddenly spirited "Then all we need is a menace that requires a bit more muscle to defeat, and everyone will be turning a blind eye to the past misdeeds of whoever kills it. There's always one popping up every time I try to relax; so those are surprisingly easy to find..."

The more she thought about it, the more that sounded like a good plan. First off, she wouldn't have to be the only one on primal-slaying duty: the physical and mental pressure from literally carrying the fate of the world on her shoulders in battle was getting exhausting after a while, and from their previous encounters, he would be an Echo/Resonant-using, _more than capable_ teammate that she wouldn't have to _Rescue_ around and worry about constantly. Second, she could leave the mission of crushing her more justified opponent's hopes and dreams to a genuine decisive, cold blooded, unfeeling villain. And last but not least, this arrangement would _get this homicidal maniac off her back_. Truly, three birds with a single stone...

\- "An enticing proposal, but..." He stalked to her seat and leaned in to whisper "The horrors that have come up until now, you've always bested them." She almost flinched under his too intense gaze. "So that makes you the most interesting prey. Why should I care about these small fries when I can have _you_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts ~~shoehorned~~ used:
> 
>   * **Dragon** \- A scaly mythological lizard. A green eyed monster.
>   * **Hunter & Hunted** \- A complicated two-way relationship.
>   * **Third Eye** \- Something that stands out. A sixth sense.
> 



	5. Morbid (re)collections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday, August 27th 2020 - Day 5 (Books / Ruin / Flowers)  
> If it doesn't spark joy...

He effortlessly evaded a second point-blank soft projectile, that went crashing into a shelf behind him instead, knocking down some of the neatly arranged books.

\- "Get lost!" And now she had no more pillows at hand to smother him, or at least his presence, just _great_. As she got up wearily to fetch her cushion-ammunition, he went to pick up some of the fallen volumes, intrigued. Looking at her well stocked bookshelf, he was a little surprised at the abundance and variety of publications stocked, as well as the obvious traces of use.

\- "History classics, sciences and engineering, foreign epics... I didn't expect you to be actually so well read." He took out an esoteric parchment, whose script did not even look like something known on this plane of existence, to study it. Probably a souvenir from her travels across the rift.

\- "Same here, actually. The mere fact that you recognize what a book looks like is enough cause to wonder." The answer was cold, caustic even. He was not too pleased with the tone and assumption.

\- "Hmpf. Even though I have no interest in the throne, I was still raised to be the leader of an Empire. There is more to me than a battle crazed- oh." Her pointed look was enough to drive the meaning home. She walked over to him.

\- "I mean, how am I supposed to know or care about that, I am but a savage beast of an inferior species. Now, take your brute fingers off that priceless antique, if you please." She offered her hand, in which he cooperatively deposited the roll he had displaced from the shelf, laughing:

\- "Oh~? Could it be that you've taken this pet name to heart?" He started placatingly patting her head like he would a small animal, but she swatted away the offending palm. "How would you like me to call you, my friend? _Warrior of Light_ sounds a bit estranged... Should I call you-" She blocked his mouth with her fingers before her name could pass his lips.

\- "You're aware that friends are not supposed to kill each other, right". A sad, self-deprecating smile danced fleetingly on her face before she hardened her expression. "And we're not close enough to be on a first name basis". A playful lick was enough to get her to retrieve her digits in a fluster. He pressed his advantage:

\- "So, let's take this opportunity to get acquainted. What is there to know about the Warrior of Light?" It was only normal for a good hunter to know everything about their prey, right? "There is so little literature on your person, one might think you've been willed into existence by the prayers of your lesser peers, much like an Eikon. Wouldn't that make hunting you my mandate, as a member the Garlean Imperial line-" She disdainfully rolled her eyes.

\- "Fuck off with that bullshit. As if you cared about having a reason to pester me, or you cared about anything about me beyond your so-called hunt." Somehow, complaining about this, like this, sounded wrong. She schooled her features back to indifference "And I don't care about you either, so the door's over there." She sat back in her armchair, arms crossed, looking away.

\- "Well, " _I'm looking for a weak point_ ", was that it?" he parroted obnoxiously.

\- "Tch! As if I'd tell you!" She suddenly felt tired. Getting to know each other, understanding each other, bit by bit, attempting to bridge differences, failing, then having to battle to the death, again and again. This pattern was starting to take its toll... She closed her eyes, hoping that by ignoring his existence, he would get the hint and disappear by himself; he took her attitude as a license to continue observing his foe's natural habitat.

The house itself was rather small, which he found passing strange, as he thought that the person hailed as the hero who saved the world several times over would be offered to live like a queen, in a gorgeous mansion filled with servants. It was clean and tidy, yet looking closely, it didn't seem that it was permanently lived in, as attested by small details like a suspiciously spotless hearth, out of season decorations, or neglected, withered flowers in a pot.

Various knick-knacks were inconspicuously lying around, some of them inoffensive, though probably thoughtlessly plucked from the walls of ancient civilization ruins, and some so saturated by primordial aether that their combined influence would probably be enough to temper lesser men.

A pair of oversized, magnificently coloured butterfly wings. A collection of gleaming, sharp blades. A pillar of purple crystal, shrouded in sadness and regret. And many, too many others, trophies to enemies fallen in battle. However, the air that surrounded most of them was not that of the pride of satisfying hunt; but rather, they felt like the melancholy mementos of departed friends. They were weighing on the confined atmosphere, each one representing the foregone conclusion of a tragedy; that she decided to keep those so close to her, into her private decor, felt indistinctly unsettling to him. Until he stopped in front of a frame enshrining the replica of an all too familiar draconic wing, highlighted with green dashing accents, intimately stroking its cruel, jagged edges.

\- "I definitely have to leave you something even prettier, next time. Or rather, you could tell me, if you have something specific you would like me to remember you by? You look deceptively human, and even if I died once, I'm not really into preserving body parts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts ~~shoehorned~~ used:
> 
>   * **Books** \- Something from which one can glean information.
>   * **Ruin** \- Ongoing deterioration.
>   * **Flowers** \- Part of a plant often used in interior decoration. A traditional gift when visiting friends, or in the context of courtship.
> 



	6. Linking shells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday, August 28th 2020 - Day 6 (Letters / Devotion / Blood)  
> It's a story about a pot and a kettle...  
> One more left~

She shot him a disgusted look, cringing:

\- "Thank you for showing due respect to my eventual remains, I guess." The image of him, keeping around pieces of herself embalmed through whatever unholy means, or _worse_ , as a memory of _the best fight he ever had_ was actually unsettling. Unfortunately for her, he kept on talking:

\- "Though..." She braced herself for the worst. "We do have technology allowing us to recreate a person's vessel, down to the smallest detail, with but a single drop of blood. I could teach you how to use your gift to transcend your own flesh, and then... We could battle again and again, beyond the realm of mere mortals, for all eternity. You and I."

\- "Forever together, with no fear of the final parting that comes with death..." She briefly toyed with the idea for a moment, pensive, but ultimately discarded it. "That would cheapen the stakes, wouldn't it? You're bound to get bored at some point."

\- "I doubt I'll ever get bored of you." An intense declaration, which would have been moving if _not getting bored_ didn't imply _going after each other with lethal weapons drawn_. He added: "And if the need ever arises, there are various ways to spice up to our fight, using various modifications for example-" She interrupted him straight away.

\- "Don't tell me, you're thinking of what your engineers did to Gryne-whatever, or those monstrosities in Castrum Abania? ... Yeah, no." A stern refusal.

\- "Tch. Don't be such a killjoy." His eyes glowed momentarily. "These were nothing but defective products, but for prime subjects like us, the possibilities are endless." Suddenly inspired: "We could go even further, and create a new being, born from our combined gifts. That would probably make for a worthy adversary for us."

\- "... This ..." She was almost at loss for words for a second. "That's basically the same thing as training your own progeny to kill you. How twisted was your childhood for you to think that's the right way to raise-" She thought back of his sire, Varis' perpetually ice-cold mien, as well as his great-grandsire Solus' supercilious attitude, and sighed "You really need someone to fix your distorted world views... Not me, though. Not today. I'm not helping." She was too _tired_ to take on desperate causes on her day off. She resumed her pretend-sleep in an attempt to cut off the conversation. He was slightly miffed by her apparent disregard.

\- "Aren't you way too unguarded?" He stalked to her armchair, towering above her. No reaction. He bent his waist, his hands on the armrests and back of her seat supporting his full weight, with his oppressive frame caging her, and his mane curtaining the light off her exceedingly close face. Still no reaction. He dropped a knee to the floor for stability, and stole her seemingly lifeless arm from her lap. Absolutely no reaction. This fascinating appendage, docile, pliant in his playful grip, was quite literally a god-slaying utensil. Acting on impulse, he brought it to his mouth, lapping, nibbling at the lively pulse at her wrist. Almost instantly, he felt the chill of her cold glare bearing down on him, keener than any blade.

\- "Don't push your luck too far, brat." Almost a growl pushed through clenched teeth. He applied a final, provocative lick before she jerked her hand away.

\- "Oh~? Awake already? You have such a thin skin. A pity, I was looking forward to finding out how far I would have to go to wake you up. Next would have been your ankle, then-". His attempt to trace said ankle was met with a light kick, which he dodged with ease as he got up. "Though I can recall from epics a far more appropriate place". His eyes stopped at her lips. "I was a prince after all".

\- "I was not sleeping. I was playing dead in hopes that you would finally leave." She decided to switch to a more blunt weapon.

\- "It's no use complaining after letting the fox in the hen house. For a beast, you really have no sense of danger." He resumed snooping around, as she exasperatedly groaned:

\- "I'm not burning my house down to get you out". She was feeling the onset of a terrible migraine.

\- "I mean, your mortal enemy is here, and you don't look like you are feeling any sense of menace" and spotted on a nearby writing desk some documents, affixed with the official seal of the Holy See of Ishgard. "You're just here, wide open", he snatched the papers, as if to demonstrate "Ripe for the plucking."

\- "You little-" She barely restrained a stream of profanities as she dashed to attempt to seize them back, but he only had to extend his arm above his head to secure them out of her reach, by mere virtue of his stature.

\- "Could it be, that those are some confidential tactical plans? See, it would be terrible if they were to fall in enemy hands." Mirth sparkled in his voice, delighting in her angry liveliness.

She glowered at this smug face hatefully, but refused to suffer the indignity of trying to catch them by jumping around. She laboured to curb her impulse to _Snap Punch_ his open flank, and turned around, as if sulking.

\- "Fine, suit yourself. It's nothing of interest though." He quickly perused what turned out to be a set of private letters.

> _"I finally had some time to try that recipe using imported Ul'dahn maple sugar instead of birch syrup, and the results were beyond my expectations. [...] I'll be glad if you were able to drop by for a taste next time you pass by Ishgard. [...]"_
> 
> _"[...]Actually, that idea of using Allagan-based bio-engineering to improve raw strength and energy efficiency in the next iteration of your Queen seems pretty promising! We definitely need to have word with Garlond about that, as soon as possible! [...]"_
> 
> _"[...] Remember to get some rest, and don't let those assholes bully you into saving the world again, not before you've taken some vacations. Don't make me intervene. [...]"_

The informal tone, the off-handed care, the familiarity, probably _close enough to be on a first name basis_... It felt like the fire needed some kindling, and those eyesore missives would be the perfect fuel. He still put them back on the desk. She was perplexed by his markedly stiffer face, but still went to rearrange the documents, nagging:

\- "Told you, it's just my personal correspondence. Linkshells calls don't reach across the rift, so it was easier to switch to moogle-carried letters. Nothing of interest to-"

\- "Do you want me to send you letters?" The words spilled before he could process them.

\- "Ha?" She was obviously having trouble following his contradictory train of thoughts.

\- "As your friend, it's only normal that I send you some. As a token of our _friendship_." She pictured him, sitting in a dusk lit study with a cup of tea after a routinely boring day, taking the time to write about his latest hunts or whatnot, asking about her recent earth-rending encounters, bonding through discussing their nihilistic outlook on the fate of the star... That _almost_ sounded nice. "And since I don't trust those furry creatures to keep their poms out of our messages, I will come to deliver them personally. After all, it would not look good to either of us, if word of our association came out." What was the point of sending letters, if he intended to warp to her house every damn time to bring them in person? She gave up.

\- "Do whatever you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts ~~shoehorned~~ used:
> 
>   * **Letters** \- Message written on a piece of paper, that can't be told aloud.
>   * **Devotion** \- Offering oneself as tribute. Adoration.
>   * **Blood** \- A strong, indestructible link, be it shared or shed.
> 



	7. A f(r)iend's care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday, August 29th - Day 7 (Gift / Battlefield / Hear, Feel, Think)  
> The Finale~ (or is it? No one knows :p)  
> Actually this Warrior of Lights level of "done with everyone's bullshit" is reflective of patch 5.3, but I've been careful to omit information after 5.1 (At least I'm pretty sure I did, please let me know if I'm mistaken)

\- "When we finally face each other on the battlefield... You have to give me your everything. You _have_ to. Do not hold anything back, do not stay your hand out of notions like "pity", "mercy", "friendship" or... anything."

The comfortable silence was finally broken by his strangely quiet words. Time seemed to freeze for a while, but her fists were closing tighter and tighter, almost to the point of her nails breaking the skin. Then came the storm.

\- "You! You... arrogant, ignorant little piece of shite." She stepped back, as if to take in his whole height, and sneered. "Even after I already kicked your ass in Ala Mhigo, you still think you have what it takes to receive all of me? Greater men and women than you have tried and failed, for the "Warrior of Hydealyn" cannot be defeated. Yet you still insist..."

\- "Do not lump me with them." He abruptly cut. The comparison somehow irritated him. He mocked: "Surely you remember Doma, or Rhalgr's Reach."

\- "You have the nerve of...!" At the mention of the one-sided massacre at Rhalgr's Reach, she couldn't take it any more, and snapped, her aura almost electrified "You really don't understand. It might be a fight to the death, but certainly not mine, for I _can't_ lose. You don't understand my nature. Granted by Her Brilliance, the gift of "overcoming, against all odds". As long as I could really die, it is _not possible_ for me to lose. Not happening. Erased from time and space."

This... He had heard how her friends and admirers had literally crossed over time and space to rewrite her death. At the time, he had felt a vague sense of... _gratitude?_ towards those who helped save his prey... But he now understood that those "friends" might also be their greatest obstacle. How many of their duels had they, would they prevent, forestall, spoil?

\- (Do I really have to destroy this star and all its reflections for us to enjoy killing each other in peace?)

\- "And every time, I survive... And the price of that so-called victory is mine to pay. But you!" Her accusatory finger, like her words, was hammering his chest. "You have nothing to lose. You have nothing to fight for. You can't understand the cost of keeping on living on top of all of these crushed hopes and dead bodies. The cost of how much more can I bear to lose, before giving up on winning."

\- (If I were to really burn everything down... Then you would pretend to have no reason left to fight. Maybe only half of it, or something, then you could come at me, all fangs bared, yet still pretending to be a self-righteous beast.) His unflinching gaze was fixed on her, savouring her rage, burning brighter, stronger, fuelling the flames of her soul, warming his own, yet not enough, for it was only an after effect of her past battles. Something was missing. (Or I could kill everyone you hold dear, so you could _only live for me,_ as a target of your wrathful vengeance? If you were strong enough to get back up, how wonderful would that be...) But even then, there would be no way for them to enjoy pleasant, quiet afternoons, bickering over hot chocolate on her terrible interior design choices; for even as the vaunted hero of Eorzea, her heart might not be so forgiving.

\- "Nothing is precious to you. You are empty." She was more and more incensed by his seemingly uncaring, actually pensive look, and intensified her verbal assault, face down to hide her emotions, even as her was voice cracking under their strain. "And yet you have the gall to think that an empty shell like _you_ can best _me_? As if you were even an opponent to begin with! Prepare well this battlefield of yours, since it'll also be your deathbed. How rare of a chance it is, to decide when and where to die!" These fucking bastards just loved pulling that kind of stunt: grandstanding about their lofty, honourable goals and ideals, before committing Warrior-of-Light-assisted suicide, and leaving her to carry their burden. But at that point, it was what was expected of her, was it not? When she spoke again, after a few moments to compose herself, her voice was cold, and her eyes dead. "Very well. As it is my wont, I will gladly grant you the gift of death, since that's what you wish".

Yet, under the veneer of her newfound apathy, it was saturating the nearby aether. He could almost drown in that permeating anger, rolling in heavy waves. The soul crushing pain, drilling through his mind. Sadness. Despair. Loss. Longing. Resounding feelings, spilling from her agitated mind, their weight and intensity making it difficult to hear, difficult to breathe.

\- (I guess... I'll have to add this name to the things that were lost, too...)

A forlorn complaint, almost an auditory hallucination.

\- (The piglet's gift... ?)

Only through all these years of poker face practice, tempered by decades of profound ennui and court intrigue, was he able to endure this onslaught of foreign emotions and keep his expression in check. Wearing his trademark benign smile, he took the poking hand that ended up gripping his lapels, and gently returned it to its owner's bosom.

\- "Perfect, then. Soon enough, everything will be ready. And I will be waiting for you on this grand, glorious stage. For our final reunion, and final parting. Until then, fare thee well, _my friend_."

Tearing through the fabric of the world, thickened by these dark feelings, he left.

Only when he arrived at his destination, did he release a sigh he didn't know he was holding.

\- (I... I have found something precious, _my friend_. But attaining it, means losing it forever at the same time. Yet... there is no other choice for us but to have it, is there? So we might as well make it the best time of our lives. Even though, offering the perfect conditions, the perfect circumstances for you to give it your all is...)

In the all-covering darkness, he didn't bother to suppress the indulgent smile that bloomed on his face:

\- (... Such a capricious little beast to take care of.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts ~~shoehorned~~ used:
> 
>   * **Gift** \- Something that is offered. One may not like it.
>   * **Battlefield** \- A bloodied place of fateful encounters and remorseful partings.
>   * **Hear, Feel, Think** \- Process to reach a perceived truth.
> 

> 
> I can't remember when I last wrote something close to a fiction piece, and I don't think I ever published anything fanfic-y...  
> Especially in English (RIP grammar & vocabulary, I hardly knew ye), that was quite the exercise \o/  
> Thank you for setting this up :D I hope someone found this entertaining :D  
> (I had fun today!)(Let's play together again sometime!)


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